


Tears of Stars

by Moonlight_Darkblood



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abused Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Actor Eren Yeager, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, Cutting, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Model Eren Yeager, Older Eren Yeager, Plot Twists, Singer Eren Yeager, Suicidal Thoughts, You Have Been Warned, Younger Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-08 17:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11086176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlight_Darkblood/pseuds/Moonlight_Darkblood
Summary: Rivaille Heichou has always been alone, never being allowed to hang out with anyone outside of school, making people avoid him. Even in school he is avoided like the black plague. Home has never been safe either, with his adoptive father forcing him to become a prostitute for his own fun and money. It has been like this for years, Rivaille having to look out for himself since age seven. And he had never even heard music before, until he walks by a new cafe. After a little investigating to find out who was singing, he learns about an upcoming concert in the nearby city. Using the hour of free time he has every other day, Rivaille works to get the money to go do something fun for once in his miserable life. Although it is risky, he goes to the concert, and his life will change for the better because of it.Au where Levi is a highschool prostitute who gets bullied and abused with depression and suicidal thoughts, and Eren is the famous singer/model/actor who saves him.





	1. A Life of Pain is Not a Life at All

**Author's Note:**

> This will have a lot of angst. I'm gonna try not to write any rape but smut might be inputted at some point. Be prepared to have your heart shattered and then repaired then shattered again.

Life, love, comfort, compassion, family, freedom, happiness, home. Eight terms that assist with giving a person a fulfilling life. Out of those eight, he only knows one. Life. Never has he ever felt love, compassion, happiness, comfort. Had never had freedom, a family, a true place to call home. No, the seven words mean nothing to him. Then there is life. He knows what it is, but only because he lives. Only because his heart beats and he breathes. But, even if he knows of life, he does not understand it. Some people know the eight words, others know fewer but more than he does. So all but life do not apply to him.

 

Death, hate, misery, fear, captors, shackles, sorrow, prison. Eight terms that break people bit by bit. He knows all but one. Death. Over the years he has learned of all the others. Now only one is left. Most people like him would say they know death, but they all lie. Only the people who have perished know what death really is. And he fears he may be one of them soon. Even at the young age he is. 

 

Then there are other things that he has never seen or heard. He’s heard stories at school about technology, only seen pictures or people holding them. Phones, Television, Headphones, Earplugs, Tablets, Computers, all of those things. He’s never owned a single one. The videos, the texts, even the music. They were something that he hadn’t known, not yet. Color too, is something else he hasn’t been able to grasp quite like everyone else around him. Sure he could see it, but he could never truly  _ feel  _ it. There were no colors to his life, just black and grey, so the experience is unknown to him. The only color he is familiar with is red. The burning hatred side of red. The dangerous, the life sucking side of it. And it was all because of his adoptive father and his tormentors at school that red was the only color he could truly see. 

 

He is adopted, a part of the Heichou family. One that consists of himself and a dad. He has no memory of his past life before being adopted. All that is left from it is his name and age. He is Rivaille Heichou, a young seventeen year old boy. Then there is his dad, who he doesn’t know the name of. The man forced him to call him ‘daddy’ for as long as he could remember. There was a time where Rivaille knew the first eight words, but that was years ago. Over time, he has forgotten. And now he is just a broken shell. Fragile, but still not willing to break. Not yet. 

 

Before Rivaille was seven, he was innocent. He was a child. Then his daddy got addicted to alcohol. First there was just a lot of yelling and name calling. Saying that he was “useless” and that, “your parents never loved you, that’s why you were dumped on me,” and so on. Later his behavior got worse, and he was on drugs now. His six year old self would constantly be beaten up to the point of blacking out. One simple mistake, one tiny move, and he would be on the floor in seconds. The abuse of alcohol and drugs started draining their money. Daddy stopped going to work, stopped gaining any sustainable money. Rivaille was only seven at the time, too young to fully understand anything. He was way too young to realise that he should have ran that day, to get help, to leave and never come back. The foster system would have been better than this.

 

And so it happened. The day where he had to grow up, leave his childhood behind. What he was forced to do, no child should have suffered like that. Yet he did. He always seemed to be the one. The one to lose everything. He had gotten home from elementary to find Daddy and another man. The other guy was gross, older than Daddy was and had more fat. His dad told him to put away his school stuff in his room and come straight back down to greet the man. There was an eerie feeling in the room, but instead of turning and running, he complied. When he came back down, that was when his first job was forced on him. 

 

Rivaille was drugged and striped. Everything was dizzy and there was nothing he could do from that point on other than groan. If only he had a faster immune system, then he could have gotten out of there. But just as the drug started to wear off, his innocence was taken without his consent. The man was harsh and didn’t prepare him. So he bled as he was stretched, screaming at the top of his lungs. The pain was the worst of all the times he had been forced to do it, but it never left. He had blacked out somewhere in the middle and was woken up in the basement. He was filthy, but wasn’t allowed to clean himself. He hurt but wasn’t allowed any relief from the pain. The next day was the start of the weekend, and he was penetrated more than ten times per day. 

 

His dad had sold his body for money and forced him to become a male prostitute at a young age. Daddy didn’t do anything other than collect money and beat him. Bruises would sprout everywhere on his skin, but no one would care. No one did care. And school, it would have been an escape from the horrible abuse at the house like it had the first months of the bad behavior of his father, but it wasn’t. His peers would bully him for being adopted, for being so quiet, so antisocial. To them he was just a depressed nerd. 

 

There was a short period of time where he did have someone to love him, someone to care for him. It was in middle school four years after his childhood was taken away from him. A boy had stood up for him, taken care of his wounds. He had asked Rivaille out, and of course since he was looking for just a tiny bit of comfort in his horrible life, the eleven year old agreed. So they secretly dated. He was so kind at first, but it was just a facade. Rivaille got yet another person who just used him. He tried to hold on through all the pain, but it almost got him killed in the end. It was the last time he would ever let a person into his heart. 

 

Rumours about his romance and breakup with a boy only worsened the attitudes towards him. Now not only was he called depressed, but he was also constantly bullied for being a “faggot.” And the thing was, they were right. Rivaille was gay, and they reminded him everyday that it wasn’t okay to like the same sex. They would vandalize his locker, beat him up in the back of the school, spread rumours around him that weren’t true. The teacher’s and faculty couldn’t give two shits about what was going on and didn’t do anything. So the bullying worsened until he was raped, not only at home, but at school too. The nurse’s office seemed to be the only safe place for him to go now. The nurse was the only person who didn’t treat him like dirt on their shoe. They helped him with his classes so that he didn’t fail, he gave him a sense of home. But then they left just like everyone else in his life. 

 

The beatings became worse and his grades were dropping. Rivaille could no longer tell how many times he had woken up naked and dirty in the basement. And through all of this, he was expected to do all the housework, go shopping for food, get all the things his daddy wanted. In the house he wasn’t allowed to wear clothes. He had to have a collar on at all times, him having to hide it under a turtleneck at school. His health was declining rapidly and he was getting a figure of a stick. Over the years Rivaille never grew much, reaching one hundred-sixty centimeters near his seventeenth. The boy was no longer tan, but remained a pale white. His black raven hair was kept messily and his grey-blue eyes were always dull with dark circles under them. Clothes always either too big for his stature or too small for his size. A permanent frown was carved into his face by now, it being stuck in a state of tiredness forever. 

 

Too many bruises have been inflicted on the raven for him to count. His life was a mess, anything but a happy fairy tale, and he knew it. Rivaille was close, oh so close from ending it all, cleaning up the mess of his tale by closing his book and never opening it again. His razor blades were the only thing to keep him grounded as he raved his flesh. Pain as well as everything else is now just a distant memory. Sometimes he would wonder if he had even lived happily once. He bandaged his wound after cleaning it in his makeshift bathroom. There was a click of a lock from up the stairs to the main floor which indicated that his daddy was coming. Rivaille put everything away as quickly as he could before swiftly making his way towards his worn out bed as fast as his bruised legs could take him. The stomps of Daddy going down the steps echoed through the tiny basement. Rivaille had to squint his eyes at the bright ceiling light that was flickered on as the man got down from the last step. Surprisingly, he was alone.

 

“Rivaille,” he boomed. 

 

The boy flinched and in a meek and underused voice in a whisper responded, “Yes, Daddy.” His father moved closer until he was standing right in front of Rivaille. The man’s hand was brought back, then quickly smacked across his face with enough force to cause the raven to fall onto the bed. Rivaille did not dare move. Soon enough a foot was brought hard to his stomach, the tiniest bits of blood making it’s way up from his mouth. Once he was on his back, the foot stomped on his lower regions and grinded on him. Gasping was the only thing he could do at the moment. The pressure was increased, and Rivaille knew what the man wanted. It took a lot of force to fulfill it though. “Nh...Daddy!” He moaned involuntarily. 

 

The pressure was then gone, but not the pain. He didn’t understand, usually when the man did that, he wanted to go all the way. Clothes were then dumped on him, and Rivaille knew that he was going to be forced into running an errand. “Go get some food from the store. You better be back here in thirty, slut,” Daddy commanded. Then he left. The boy looked at the clothes he was brought and sighed. There were tight skinny jeans and a tight, black hoodie. A inward groan wanted to leave his mouth when he saw the underwear. It was basically a small piece of cloth to cover up his crotch and the rest were tiny strings that connected on the sides of his waist. He couldn’t argue, no matter how much we wanted to, so there was no point in complaining. Rivaille got on the uncomfortable clothing and then made his way upstairs. He could hear the snores of his father coming from the living room. Making sure to be as quiet as possible, he slipped out of the house. Rivaille could run away, but his step dad had many connections to be able to find him again. He has a good reputation, so going to the police department wouldn’t get him anywhere. Sighing, he began to slowly walk towards the local grocery store. 

 

On his way there, a strange sound reached his ears. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. There was a beat with waves of smooth and upbeat noises along with a person talking to the tempo of it. No place around his run down and poor neighborhood had whatever it was. What do people call it, a tune, a melody...music? Was that sound music? Curiosity got the better of him and he investigated where it came from. It lead him to a coffee shop, one that he has never seen or heard before. Rivaille didn’t bother learning the name of the place, just opting to stay there and listen to something he never thought the world would ever allow him to hear. The voice was so smooth and angelic, hitting every note just right. He could tell that the person was good even though he had never heard music before now. And all too soon, it ended. The raven was about to turn around and start his tredd to the store when he heard something that caught his attention. 

 

_ “That was Eren Jaeger with his hit single, Reluctant Heros. His next concert is in two months at the city of Trost, so make sure to buy a ticket before they run out!” _

 

With that note, Rivaille turned and walked away. Once he got to the store, he quickly grabbed whatever food and drink he could that would only cost thirty dollars in total. The only good thing about living in a dirt poor district like he did was the underpriced market. When he was done paying for everything he headed home. The boy tried to keep his head clear and blank, but thoughts about the song and the guy who...sang it? Is that the term people use when saying a person talked to a tune? Rivaille shook his head. Then the concert popped in his head. 

 

_ ‘I want to go, I want to hear that sound again...but. No, there is no way I can go. It’s too expensive. Daddy wouldn’t allow me to go either...but, it is close to here. Two months is enough time to earn the money. But I can’t earn it from...them. Maybe I can find another job to do during the hour of free time I have every other day. But who would hire a useless slut like me?’  _ Rivaille went through the many different ways in his head, but if he didn’t secretly find a second job, his wish would be hopeless. He was about half way home when he bumped into someone. 

 

“Sorry,” the boy whispered, too afraid to look up at the culprit.

 

“Oh don’t worry, dear. It’s alright,” the person said. They sounded like someone much older than him. And they were probably female too. Taking a chance, he looked up to see someone he had never noticed before. His hunch was correct and an elderly woman stood before him carrying a box. A van was parked next to them with the doors open and the inside filled with many more boxes. The woman walked a towards the house but stopped because the box slipped from her grasp. She grumbled a bit and went to pick it up, but Rivaille didn’t think that was such a good idea. 

 

“Um...ma'am, let me help you,” he said softly. Rivaille moved over to her and picked up the stray box. She thanked him and they walked indoors together. The raven helped carry all the boxes into her home in the end, for he didn’t feel like forcing the lady to do it. She offered him tea, but he kindly refused.

 

“Well thank you for being a gentleman, anyway,” she started. A cat then came from behind her and looked up at Rivaille with what the boy assumed was interest in it’s eyes. The feline meowed and came up to him, rubbing it’s head against his legs. He squatted down and petted, starting to purr in response. The lady chuckled. “Samson usually doesn’t like people or strangers. I’m surprised he let you pet him so quickly.”

 

“He’s cute,” responded Rivaille. 

 

“Yes, but he can be quite the troublemaker.” She then paused to think, Rivaille still petting the cat with affection. “I need someone to help take care of him, and seeing how sweet you are, I want to offer you a job.” With that the boy instantly shot up and shook his head in protest.

 

“N-no ma’am, you don’t have to do that-”

 

“Nonsense. You’re young and quite a darling, and you helped me, a stranger, out. Samson likes you, too. I think you’re perfect for the job.” When Rivaille didn’t respond right away she added something more to persuade him to accept. “I’ll pay you well.”

 

“No, please ma’am, I can’t take your money. Besides the only times I am free is every other day around evening for an hour,” he protested. 

 

“Nope, no buts. I am a very stubborn old lady and when I want something I will do everything I can to get it. There is no stepping out of this one, young mister.” Rivaille weighed his options. He did ask for a job that could be kept secret and that he could use his free time for. But he didn’t want to be a nuisance to the kind lady. And then again she said that once she sets her mind to it, she won’t let it go. This job could probably pay for the concert. It wouldn’t hurt to have a friend either. Slowly Rivaille nodded his head and gave a small smile. It was awkward and weird because he couldn’t remember the last time he tried to smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. 

 

“Okay.” 

 

The lady then told him everything he needed to know. What to do with the cat, how to get in the house if she wasn’t home, how much pay he would be getting. Then she sent him on his way. His spirit was lighter than it had been in a long time. It was relaxing...but that changed as soon as he put foot inside his house. When the door closed he instantly felt hands on his neck. His grocery bags dropped to the floor as his strength was quickly drained from him and his body was lifted off the floor. It was his dad. He was pissed. 

 

“WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU!?” He screamed at the boy. The man kept yelling and when Rivaille’s hands dropped to his sides and his eyelids were halfway closed with his lips slightly parted, he let go. His body slumped to the floor with a loud thud, everything else going quiet. Everything around him was blurry, and all he could do was let himself get dragged towards his room. The basement. Next thing he knew, he was being thrown onto the mattress called his bed and chained down so that he didn’t move. His clothes were torn off him, underwear ripped from his waist hard enough to leave red marks for hours. Rivaille knew what was going to happen next, so he just tuned out the world like he wasn’t even there. Like he wasn’t being violated. Like he wasn’t being beaten and raped. 

 

Then finally, it was over. The man left and Rivaille could barely move a single muscle. Even though he was in enough pain to pass out, he got up into a crawl and went towards the ‘bathroom’ where his razors were stored. He absentmindedly cut his wrists, arms, and stomach. Watching the blood ooze from the wounds always calmed him. After a while, the feeling of being close to fainting rising, he cleaned up his wounds and went to bed. It seemed that no matter what happened be it good or bad in the middle of his days, they always started out the same. Covered in blood and in massive pain. 


	2. A Day Starting Out Horrible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone knows 'Rivaille' is apparently pronounced 'Revi' like Levi with an R instead in french (cuz he french). Just a little thing yall should know.
> 
> LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL YAAASSSS!!!!! forgive my grammar and spelling mistakes.

 

Pain is one of the few emotions and feelings Rivaille knows. Being constantly beaten by his step father and the kids at school weakened his body over time from the once healthy state he was in. Sadly, this was a normal thing now. The boy could barely go a day without having a body part connect with his face hard. Be it a fist or foot or...he never got a break. Nothing could be done about it, though. His father had him tied around his finger too much by now for him to defy the man. And any attempt he made to escape, to break free, he would be found and punished accordingly. Over the past decade Rivaille had only one form of coping mechanism. It was the only one that helped ground him and keep him somewhat sane. Slitting his wrists, stomach, legs, anywhere really. It didn’t hurt though, not anymore. Daddy didn’t care what he did as long as Rivaille kept providing him with entertainment and money. 

 

Nobody in the town even batted an eye at him when he limped around at the grocery store or at school. The neighbors couldn’t hear his cries all day and night, and they didn’t care about anyone but themselves. Only one person did give him their time of day, but they left unannounced. So, the boy was alone without anyone but his razors to comfort him through all the agony. And everything was the same for so many years after that, too. He thought life would remain as painful and bland as always with no hope for him to hold on to. Only recently, though, has things begun to change in his life. Rivaille was finally able to hear what music sounds like for the first time, and he was immediately addicted to the feeling it gave him, the tones and instruments that he heard. The had met a nice old lady that hired him as a cat sitter. And it was a job that didn’t involve getting beaten or undressed or humiliated. He had finally found someone to talk to. 

 

Rivaille couldn’t bring himself to tell her about what was happening at his house, even though he had the chance to escape. His mind was too far gone in submissiveness and fear to stand up to his Daddy even when he wasn’t present at the time. But it was still nice to finally have someone making an effort to communicate with him. It was a chance for Rivaille to use his voice more often. A chance to get it back before he lost it completely. And although he didn’t talk much and had a really hoarse throat, she was patient with him and only initiated a conversation when she thought it was completely necessary to get rid of the silence. But even in the quiet, it wasn’t stuffy or anything. It was...safe…

 

The raven had been able to hide all the money he had made with the Missus, and soon had enough to buy himself a ticket to the only place that had sparked a desire in him for a very long time. Only four and a half weeks were left and the concert tickets were running out fast. Rivaille was getting anxious that he wouldn’t be able to get the money in time, and his anxiety was caught by the lady one day. She didn’t want to say anything at first, but the feeling was basically radiating off the boy and she couldn’t help herself. 

 

“What has gotten you so anxious, Rivaille?” She asked with concern. He didn’t respond though, stuck in his own little world while sitting on the ground in her living room with the cat in his lap. The lady called out his name one more time, snapping him out of his trance. Rivaille looked at her in confusion.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I asked about what is making you so anxious, dear,” she said, repeating her question for him. Rivaille turned his head away and kept his eyes glued to the floor, her tone making him a little more submissive than he usually was with her. Hearing no response the woman spoke a little harsher. “Come on now, speak up.”

 

The boy flinched and lowered his head even more, body still facing her direction. “Sorry,” he whispered with fear laced in the single word. They sat there quietly for a moment, the Missus unsure of what to say now. She watched him with a calculative look. Shaking off the feeling she got, she moved on. 

 

“It is alright, dear. Just tell me what has gotten you up in a jiffy.”

 

“Um...I’m worried that I might not have enough money in time to buy it,” Rivaille mumbled. The woman nodded. 

 

“And what is it you are saving up for?” Rivaille raised his head up slightly but didn’t meet her steel gaze. 

 

“I...u-uh...I w-wanna go see a c-concert…” He whispered, a slight blush on his face. Surprisingly, instead of making fun of him as Rivaille had expected, she squealed instead. 

 

“Oh, honey, you should have just said so! What is it and when? I’ll get you your ticket!” She stood up and went over to the kitchen to grab her wallet, Rivaille quickly scrambling to follow her.

 

“N-no, you don’t have too, it’s really expensive and you already do so much for me and you don’t need to do anything else, I already appreciate you hiring me, you really don’t need to do thi-” The boy rambled, being cut off by a stern motherly look from the Missus. 

 

“No worries, Rivaille. You are like a grandson to me and I feel like spoiling you rotten everytime I see you. I can tell you already have a tough life as it is, and you need a break from it all. And I loved going to concerts when I was younger. You should get the experience.”

 

“But-”

 

“No buts, mister. You are going to tell me what concert it is and I will buy you one of the best tickets there is!” She declared happily. Rivaille just stood there in shock. Someone was actually giving him a gift. A real, sensual gift. One from the heart. Not a fake one that lead to his demise. Warmth was pooling into his stomach and he didn’t know what the feeling was. But it was amazing. It felt so...so...great! The boy couldn’t stop the tears that started slowly falling out of his eyes as he sobbed. Missus then embraced him after wiping away his tears and held him close. The touch was soft and gentle, unlike anything he had felt in such a long time. His shoulders heaved up and down as his sobbing increased at the wonderful feeling he had. Was this what happiness felt like, what comfort felt like? Was this what it was like to not be in pain, if only for a moment? Rivaille melted into the touch and wrapped his arms around the kind woman and nuzzled into her shoulder. 

 

“T-thank you! Thank you s-so much! You have no idea h-how much t-this means to me,” Rivaille sobbed, his voice getting higher and quieter towards the end. “I-I don’t even know your n-name, and yet you’ve given m-me so m-much…”

 

“Hush, child. It’s okay. I would give you the world if I could. You are a sweet and wonderful boy, you deserve this,” she soothed him. When Rivaille finally calmed down, a thought hit him. 

 

“W-wait. Use the money you gave me if you’re really going to buy me the ticket,” he said, pulling back a little with wet eyes. The lady only shook her head. 

 

“Nah,” she started, waving her hand in the air, “I got more money than I know what to do with. I do not have a child to inherit the money to, and I do not need anything expensive anymore. Why not spend it on my favorite boy in this town. Oh, and keep the money I gave you, you earned it.” She lightly pinched his cheeks in a playful manner. A long time ago, just a simple gesture like that would have scared the hell out of Rivaille, but he was getting used to being pampered by the Missus. There was a question that lingered on his tongue, though. 

 

“If you have that much money, then why did you move to a poor and dangerous town like this? It’s an hour away from the city and it isn’t in the best quality either…”

 

“Like I care about the quality of the town,” she scoffed. “I have no use to live in a mansion only occupied by myself. Living in a small house like this is better than that. And one of the things on my bucket list was to move to a rundown neighborhood to see what it’s like. Glad I did, too. You can not find fine, kind boys anywhere that often these days.” She sighed and gave him a warm smile afterwards. “Do you have anyone that can drive you there?” Rivaille shook his head. “Alright, then I will drive you to the concert. I can find out when it is. Now I think you be better going home for today. Thank you for your help Rivaille.” She hugged the boy and gave her goodbyes as he walked back to his house as quickly as he could as to not be late.

 

All the warmth and comfort left his body as he stepped up towards the door to Daddy’s house. There was laughing outside, which meant there was another man here for him. Rivaille shuddered and walked indoors as quietly as he could, putting away his things. “Ah, there you are, Rivaille. Meet your client today. He-” Daddy started to ramble and Rivaille tuned everything out, allowing his body to fulfill the commands of his adoptive father. He registered nothing but pain for hours. Eventually he was knocked out, hearing the ringing of his father and the man’s laughter above him as he slipped away to the darkness. 

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

Rivaille limped from his last period class and into the hallway full of people who despised his presence. As he walked past a few groups, he could feel their disapproving stares and glares. This was nothing new of course, it having been this way ever since he started going to the high school. Whispers flowed around him, commenting about his new bruise that he had forgotten to cover up with concealer that morning. Rivaille sighed and continued on to his locker. He dreaded having to go there. It was always the place where it was best to pick on him. And it seemed like the world just wanted this day to be ruined before it even got to the fun part. Guess it just gives him another reason why he is ecstatic about the concert today. 

 

The boy was snapped out of his thoughts as he was shoved into his locker. Books he was holding fell to the floor as others ended up on his head with a harsh hit. Rivaille whimpered quietly, laughing coming from the darkness before him that was slowly clearing up to reveal who had pushed him around. Before he could identify his tormenter, he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and thrown out of the locker and onto the ground, hitting his side. Not daring to move, the raven curled in on himself. “Look at the pathetic faggot,” one of the kids laughed. Rivaille shook of both fear and pain. A foot then landed on his back causing him to uncurl himself and gasp in pain. Another landed on his stomach making him hunch forwards and gasp for air. He was then picked up by the collar again and hoisted into the air where his body was limp as his face was repeatedly knocked in by a fist. A black eye was now visibly forming on his face, cuts and bruises from his other beatings opening up again. But, even though his body screamed in pain, not a word came from him. Not a movement. Not a single reply as he let them beat him to a pulp.

 

Insults were spit at him left and right. Then it all stopped suddenly. “Hah! Would you look at that! The fag is wearing a dog collar on his neck! What a bitch.” Everything started all over again. More blood, more bruises, more pain. Luckily one of the girls reminded the group around him that they needed to get ready for something, and they left. For many minutes, Rivaille was left on the floor in his own blood unable to move. Then finally, with the little strength he had left in him, he clumsily limped over to the school exit and headed to Missus’ house. He knocked on her door softly and collapsed in her arms when she opened it up. 

 

“Rivaille?! Oh sweetie, let’s get you patched up. Then tell me what happened when you feel better.” All the boy could do was nod ever so slightly in acknowledgment. WIth surprising strength for an elderly woman, she lifted him over to the couch and laid him down on it. The lady scurried around the house to find medical equipment to help him. Rivaille barely registered any of this as his consciousness seemed to be fading, but he held on to it. Missus came back and started gently cleaning up the wounds on his face while staying quiet in concentration. Once that was done she wrapped some bandage roll around his head and neck after taking off the collar around it. She then put a patch on his left cheek and a bandaid on his nose. Frankly, he looked horrible. Really horrible. With that, she left Rivaille rest after noticing that he had fainted. Poor kid, having something like this happen to him right before the event he had waited weeks for. 

 

About an hour later, he woke up again. His head felt like it was being whacked in the head by a metal stick over and over. Grunting, he opened his silver blue eyes and looked around the room. He was expecting to see himself in the basement, but instead he found that he was in a soft cushion at the lady’s home. Hmm...was the thing he was lying on called a sofa? Rivaille couldn’t remember. “Ah, you are awake. How are you feeling, dear?” She called out to him from the seat next to him, stroking his hair with affection and worry. The boy tried to respond, but all that was released was a strange strangled sound, so he opted not to speak. “Oh I am so sorry for this happening to you today of all days. You don’t seem to be in good condition at all…” she paused, debating over whether she should ask how it happened or not. Seeing as though Rivaille couldn’t speak at the moment, she opted not to. Instead, she asked a different question. 

 

“Can you move your arms for me?” Rivaille nodded and moved his arms with ease, though slight pain shot through him. Not as bad as before, though. The woman smiled at him. “Sit up for me?” Again he completed the task, the pain far less than before. Even though he was slow, he was successful. “Good, good. Now...can you stand?” The raven tried to stand up, but his legs gave out and he fell back down about half way. He tried again another time before he finally got it with a little help from Missus. Standing there on shaky legs was getting easier. He tried to walk. Stumbling a few times and falling on occasion, Rivaille eventually was walking somewhat normally again. After making sure he could move and function properly, the lady sat him back down on the couch and examined his face. She clicked her tongue. “This is not good, this is not good at all. You look terrible...I do not know if you will be able to go to school for awhile,” she stated. Rivaille looked down in shame, and she kept going. 

 

“The concert is in two hours...but...I think it would be best if you stayed here.”

 

“No!” Rivaille argued with a nearly indecipherable and hoarse voice. He shook his head, “no. Want...go.”

 

“But sweetie, you can barely even walk and talk.”

 

“Plea…”

 

The woman sighed in defeat. She couldn’t say no to the boy, not when he had been waiting for this day. Not when he had just been beaten to unconsciousness. She agreed, and helped him get ready. It only took about ten minutes until they were out the door and driving towards the city. The whole car ride was quiet and awkward, not like their other more breathable silences. It would be an hour until they reached their destination, but Rivaille kept himself busy by watching the world around him. It was green, large, filled with houses and streets at some points, and it was beautiful. This would be the first time since he can remember coming here that he would see the world outside his shabby little town. And it took his breath away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was this chapter? I felt like it was good but then it felt crappy and now I think it sucks. And is the story idea alright or should I change some shit in it? Eh, I'm probably too lazy to change anything now. Oh well! 
> 
> It's really late and I'm tired as fuck. How do people stay up until 12 at midnight!? What is your secret and how come you guys end up more energetic than I do with less sleep!? I don't understand!


	3. Every Choice Has a Different Outcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has  
> rape  
> abuse  
> gore  
> deaths
> 
> You have been warned (just skip the parts with the stuff above, but do not skip chapter, it is important to the story)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!! Okay, so I have a story to tell of my adventures here in Norway. So, I was taking a train and I had to stop at the Oslo Train Station. Apparently, as soon as I got off the train, all the underground lights turned off, so no trains could leave. I was told to take a different train, a bus, and a metro (tram). Then the speakers told me to go to a different track, so I did. THEN it told me to go to a DIFFERENT track. So I went to like, five other tracks before the underground lights came back on. Then I had to wait half an hour for MY train to come. Basically, I wasted three fucking hours. Luckily, no trains crashed or anything, so that's good. It was just annoying having to stand and wait for hours upon hours. Anyway, that was the the only funny story I got so far. See you all on Saturday (if I'm not busy then).

Never in his whole life had he ever seen such an industrialized place. Buildings reached new heights, touching the sky. People covered the sidewalks while cars reigned  supreme on the roads. Shops littered every corner, restaurants popping up on every turn. Rivaille was mesmerized by the new world he had found himself in. Groups of people walked by with smiles on their faces and not a single care in the world. Shopping bags, purses, wallets, stylish clothing and haircuts, and the ability to walk around freely without the chance of getting beaten up for it by someone at home. The raven wanted that freedom that others possessed. He knew, though, that the possibility of that ever happening was close to none as long as his father was in his life. Rivaille knows the risks he is taking by going to this concert. The outcome could harm him, or the Missus, or both. But, for now, he wouldn’t think about that. This was the day he could finally lay loose for a while. The day he could finally let go of his abusive life and the pain in it. 

 

The Missus pulled into the parking lot of a huge dome shaped, indoor stadium. It was tall, about sixteen meters if he estimated correctly. Once parked, the two of them got out of the car and walked to the front entrance. Before they got in the line to get in, the lady pulled him aside. “I can go with you to the entrance, but once you are inside, I can not come with you further,” she said. Rivaille nodded his head. 

 

“I understand. Thank you, Missus,” he whispered. The boy’s voice was still rash and hoarse, him barely being able to go above a whisper without his throat hurting too much. The old woman waved her hand in the air at him. She then held him close in a warm embrace. Rivaille stiffened. 

 

“Please, call me Grandma. You are already like a grandson to me, and I would do anything for you,” she whispered into his ear lovingly. “Promise me that you will be safe, dear.” Eventually, Rivaille returned her hug, a foreign feeling in his chest. 

 

“I promise, grandma.” They pulled apart and the boy felt a little sad that the nice warmth left a bit. It was the first hug he had received in a long time, and he didn’t want it to end, but if they didn’t seperate then he wouldn’t be able to get inside in time. They walked over to the now shorter line and eventually got to the front. The two said their goodbyes, giving one more hug to each other before grandma left and Rivaille went inside. He got a lot of stares, but surprisingly, no one stopped him. Not even at the front entrance. The raven clutched his ticked tightly in his hand, keeping it close to his chest, and walked over to the ground floor. It was difficult to maneuver around with how many people were in the hallways, but Rivaille eventually made it through. Once he was situated in a spot near the stage, he let his gaze wander and take in the sights and smells around him. 

 

People were everywhere he looked. Bright colors blocking out the bland, girls and boys talking rapidly to each other while some stood alone, like himself. Everyone was constantly bumping into each other, but Rivaille didn’t have many people around him. There seemed to be a small space in between him and everyone else. Guess no one wanted to stand next to the obviously injured, and quite frankly, freak of a kid. After all, someone looking like him could be dangerous. No one would want to hang out with someone like that. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come to a concert with his condition. He should have stayed home…

 

Squeals and screams derailed him out of his dark train of thoughts. Rivaille brought his attention to the stage. Something was happening. There was loud...music? Music, there was loud music playing and...was that smoke? Why was there smoke on the stage? Why was no one freaking out because of the smoke? A large screen then came down from the roof and stopped right over the lights, and it flickered to life. ‘ _ Rogue Titan _ ’ was the name that burned on the screen above him. All of a sudden, there was even more yelling and the place got even  _ louder _ . Rivaille looked back to the stage to see the most beautiful sight he had ever seen moving towards a skinny stand with something resting on it. Was it called a microphone?

 

A tall brunette slyly strutted towards the microphone with his hair swaying back and forth like waves in a light wind. The dark brown locks fit perfectly on the naturally tanned skin. The clothes he wore fitted him perfectly, showing off every curve and edge of the boy. But compared to all that, nothing about his appearance could draw someone in better than his eyes. They were the color of trees mixed with a fair amount of blue. What was the name of that color? Teal was it? A teal green, no doubt. “Hello Trost!” The brunette yelled, everyone else screaming in response. Rivaille didn’t understand why people were squealing so much, but he guessed that that was just what people did. He wouldn’t have known, he’d been isolated from the world for too long. “Are you all having a great time!?” More yelling proceeded. “Great! If you don’t know, I’m Eren Jaeger, but I’m sure you all wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t know who I am!” The crowd laughed at his sarcasm. “Now. ARE. YOU. READY!” With that he glanced back and the instrument people started playing. 

 

If Rivaille thought that Eren’s voice wasn’t godly enough, then he was completely wrong. His voice was the definition of angelic. It hit every note perfectly, rolling smoothly and confidently over the words. Feet moved quickly on the stage as he danced a little along with the beat. As the songs continued on, he noticed that the singer was using a ton of emotion in his voice. A sense of understanding found him as he realized what the artist was trying to express. It was pain and sorrow. The sadness of losing a mother, a father, his family. The story expressed his depression, the suicidal thoughts he must have had when he lost everything. Yet, Eren held on, kept going until he reached the place he was now. This was Eren’s life story, and everyone was just singing along like it was some happy and uptune song that had no meaning at all. 

 

Rivaille could feel the tears slipping from his eyes as he listened to the words flowing out of the singer’s mouth. The man on the stage was bouncing lightly on his feet as he sang, looking over the crowd as if he was searching for something. His shining eyes swept past Rivaille, but they then came back. Those teal green orbs locked directly at him. They softened, and he smiled a bit upon seeing his face, the tears. Time seemed to slow down as they gazes intensely at each other in understanding. Rivaille’s lips almost curved a little upward, but it fell as soon as someone had bumped into him. He snapped out of the trance the brunette had on him and he looked over to the person who had moved him. It was a girl with blonde hair in a ponytail with a hand wrapped around a boy with…

 

_ No _ . 

 

He stiffened. It was _them_. The people from earlier that day. The ones who did _this_ to him. _Is that why the girl had told them to stop beating me up? Because they were coming here?_ Rivaille slowly backed away, bumping into someone else. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but didn’t look in their direction.

 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, slut.” He knew that voice. Rivaille let out a small gasp and turned around, clutching his hands near his chest in fear. “What the fuck are you even doing here? Last time I checked, dogs weren’t allowed inside. Better leave now before your owner gets worried about your disappearance,” the boy spat. He and his friends all laughed obnoxiously at the insult. Rivaille sank back a little. 

 

“I was leaving,” he whispered shakily. His tormenter stood there for a moment before walking forwards and grabbing Rivaille’s shirt’s collar. 

 

“I couldn’t hear that,  _ mutt _ . Speak louder so your master can hear you.” He tightened his grip. Rivaille then repeated what he said a little louder, and he was let go. “Good, leave. This space is for us only.” His group then filled up the space that Rivaille had previously occupied while the one who spoke to him shoved him out of the crowd and into the hallway before disappearing. It wasn’t long before tears started falling from the boy’s eyes, but this time it was for a different reason. He sniffled, trying to keep his sadness at bay. Deciding he didn’t want to cry in the middle of a hallway, he went towards the bathroom. 

 

“Why do I even try anymore…”

 

Turning a corner, he saw the bathroom. He never made it there. A hand grabbed him out of nowhere, covering his mouth to prevent him from screaming. Rivaille struggled over and over, trying to get out of the hold. It only made things worse. The boy elbowed his captor’s side, causing the person to grunt. He froze.  _ NO, not him too. Please, anyone but him! _ He pleaded inside his head, but he knew it was true no matter what. A cloth was brought to his face, and his vision slowly blackened. Rivaille stopped struggling, it was no use. Before he let the darkness consume him, the man called out. “So this is where you’ve been, Rivaille. You are a very naughty boy for coming here without your  _ daddy’s permission _ .” A hand then tightened around his neck, and he blacked out. 

 

When Rivaille awoke again, it was in the all familiar basement of his home. Only...something wasn’t right. He tried to move his hands and legs, but couldn’t. It was when he heard the clinking sounds of metal that he understood the situation he was in. Daddy had brought him down to the basement and chained him on the bed. Not only that, but he had a collar on again, which was also chained. Another thing was that he was naked and already painfully hard. The boy squirmed and tried to yell, only to realise that he was gagged. A chuckle came from the corner of the basement, one that he was all too familiar with. This was not good. 

 

“So you’re awake, mutt,” daddy said cooly. Rivaille remained still and silent as the man got closer and closer to his beaten body. “You had a lot of nerve to go to that place without my permission. If one of my buyers hadn’t seen you, you might have gone unpunished. We can’t have that, now can we.” He came forward again, an unknown item in his hand. Once he was close enough, Rivaille knew what it was. The man had once rammed it in the boy, and he had almost died because of blood loss. Then he gazed at the other hand and saw something in the shape of a gun.  _ Oh god, is he…?  _

 

And just like that daddy was on top of him, making sure to destroy every part of his insides with dirty methods. Mouth, ears, butt, and his member were all abused. His body turned purple with how many bruises he now wore, and it was eventually covered in red. All he could do was scream as he was ripped apart from the inside out. Whips, chokers, a noose, sex toys, and the gun were used on him repeatedly. If he tried to resist, even a little, a bullet would pierce through his skin. Soon enough, his limbs were littered with holes covered by blood. He screamed and screamed and screamed, but no help would come. 

 

This would be where he died. In the hands of a man who took everything from him. Took him away when he was three, took his complexion when he was five, took his virginity away at age seven, and would take his life away at seventeen. Rivaille would never see daylight again. Would never see the sars, trees, grass, nature, people...grandma. He had hoped that when he left the world, it would have been his choice to go, and it would have been done by his own hands, not by anyone else’s. But his wishes never really did come true. The sars he wished upon were long dead, and so would he be. 

 

Daddy put the toy back in his member, vibrating at the maximum. He then shoved his own length in the boy hard. “Say  _ it _ boy, say it like the slut you are,” the man commanded. The gun was placed on his head and Rivaille stared back with broken, tear filled eyes. He couldn’t believe those words Daddy wanted him to say would be his last. With sobs, he closed his eyes and said what he wanted him to say.

 

“S-so good, Daddy. Please...give me more. Fuck m-m-me h-harder, make me s-scream your name like the s-slut I a-am. P-please…” Rivaille sobbed harder. Something was then shoved in his mouth, shooting something sour in it and making him choke. A hand trailed down his length as quiet involuntary moans still left his mouth. The boy heard the safety on the gun click off, and he was afraid to open his eyes. Hands snaked around his throat and he was lifted up a little. His daddy pried his eyes open and shoved the gun into his mouth. 

 

“Such a good boy,” Daddy cooed. His finger started pulling back on the trigger. “You’ll be fucked by me even when you’re dead, I promise.” A gunshot sounded and Rivaille’s body went limp. His eyes were wide open and he was covered in even more blood. There was another loud sound, and the hand around the boy’s neck let go of him. He couldn’t see anything and could barely hear. Was this death? No, he could still hear his daddy, and he was screaming at other voices. The yelling got more distant over time for some reason. Then there was footsteps towards him, and then his hands and legs weren’t chained, but he could still feel the objects on his feet, hands, and neck. What’s going on? There was voices, telling him something he couldn’t understand. Something was pulled out of him, then he felt cool air. Was he outside? 

 

All he could understand was that he was being carried by someone, then he was being put down on something soft with blankets around him. There was also a lot of commotion around him. The clicking of...cameras was it? A person was talking not to far away from him about something. All of a sudden, those voices muffled out, and all feeling left him completely. As his consciousness slipped away from him, all he could hear was the faint beeping of his heart. 

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

The brunette with the teal green eyes walked from the backstage of the stadium stage. He was beat from the concert he just finished. It was fun to do, and he enjoyed it a lot. Only thing was, no one ever seemed to pick up on the meanings behind his songs about distant lands and heros. Well, actually, there was one person in the crowd that seemed to get the idea. He remembered what that person looked like. He had raven black hair that split down a little to the right from the middle that flowed down until it met his undercut. His pale skin contrasted nicely with his hair, and his eyes...it was hard to describe. It was like a wintery storm of snow fell upon a field of blue, lightly coating it until it became icy. They were sharp, narrow, but...they were also fragile and seemed to have been smashed and glued together too many times to count. He honestly seemed like he was broken, and the bandages only brought the thought home. His head was wrapped and his right eye had a ring of black around it. There was also a patch on his left cheek. Thinking about how the raven looked made the brunette distraught. 

 

The boy, the one who looked like he had been through hell and back, was the only one who understood. Maybe because he went through all that he did. But, either way, he knew. Unlike so many of his fans worldwide, he knew the story behind the music, and he had cried because of it. It might be thought weird that the teal green eyed man saw the boy crying as beautiful, but it was. He wasn’t crying of pain or joy or sympathy, no, he was crying because he was moved by the story. Maybe because he related, or maybe there was another reason, but he could see that in that boy’s eyes, was realization. And that is what made that raven so special. 

 

As he kept thinking about the teen with the ice blue eyes, he didn’t notice how his heart kept skipping beats. Yes, that’s right, it was skipping beats because of a  _ boy _ . Yep, he was gay, and he didn’t give a fuck about other’s opinions. A girl with raven hair, the same as the boy he had seen, that went down to her shoulders and a single bang that went across the middle of her forehead walked up to the mail who was lost in his own mind. 

 

“Eren,” she said, but he didn’t reply. “Eren,” she tried again, harsher this time. “Eren Jaeger!” This snapped the brunette out of his trance. 

 

“What, Mikasa?” He asked.

 

“We have to go, the people with the VIP passes are waiting.” Mikasa said while adjusting her red scarf that Eren had given her when they were younger and pointing at the door to the VIP lounge. With a short sigh, Eren started walking towards the door with Mikasa trailing behind him. For an hour he greeted multiple people, took tons of photos, and signed about everything that anyone asked them to. Except for people’s bodies, that was a no, no. Images of the raven with the ice blue eyes kept popping in his head and distracting him throughout the rest of the day. It annoyed him to no end that the kids who had literally pushed the boy out of his concert were there and acting like nothing had ever happened. To bad he couldn’t push them out, or punch them, even though he wanted to. 

 

Finally after one hellish hour, Eren drove home. He lived in the most expensive and private part of the city where most celebrities lived. They had a grocery store especially designed for them, as it was usually open around nine at night to twelve in the afternoon. It was so that the people who worked late could buy what they needed without having to wait for the next day and maybe missing work. After a few minutes, Eren had parked in his private garage and was on his way to the elevators that lead to his penthouse. It was on the thirtieth floor with the best view of the city, and it wasn’t too large either. Perfect size for him to live in. He said hello to the security guards outside his house before heading inside and plopping down on the couch, groaning at the amazing feeling of sitting down on something comfortable and soft, not that his car wasn’t like that. 

 

Eren flicked on the TV and started channel surfing until something gruesome caught his eyes. He was on a news channel, watching as a woman talked rapidly in front of a horrible scene. A man was being dragged out of a dingy looking house limp and unmoving. He seemed to be dead. 

 

“The woman who reported Nathaniel Heichou is a seventy year old woman that was close with his adopted son, Rivaille Heichou. She said that she would often see him bruised and limping, looking frightened before opening the door to his home. She suspected something was happening and called the police, who went here to investigate. Before they got here, they looked into Nathaniel and Rivaille’s files to see that Nathaniel never adopted anyone. There is also no record of a child named Rivaille Heichou.” Eren stared in shock.  _ No way, how was that even possible?  _ Behind the woman, the brunette could see two people walking out of the house, one carrying a backpack and the other carrying a boy…Eren gasped. The woman on TV did too.

 

The child a police officer was carrying was covered in blood and bruises, cuts and marks all over his body. He seemed to be unconscious at the moment. The boy was naked, mostly, only a towel to cover his lower regions. Everyone on TV just stood still, completely in shock, until the boy was put down on the stretcher. Something about the kid looked familiar. It was then that he remembered where he had seen that raven black hair styled in an undercut.  _ The boy from the concert. Rivaille Heichou is his name. No way, he doesn’t deserve this… _ Eren quickly grabbed a notepad and wrote the name down. Eren will find him, and he will protect him with everything he has. 

 

_ Please don’t die on me, Rivaille. I’m coming to help you... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, what ya think of this? Sorry about the concert part being so short, but I have only ever been to one, and it was more like marshmallow type music. Idk how to write that, so yea. Fucking trains man.


	4. His Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivaille wakes up again, and he isn't the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! 
> 
> Sorry for not updating for a looooooooooonnnnnnggggggg time, but I was suuupppeeer buisy. Ya know, with the new school year and the fact that I tried to join a color guard team but then quit because I went home crying every night (I'm totally tough guys). Oh, and I might start hormone therapy for testosterone because...well...I'm trans. And now that I'm going through the experience myself, I want to write a story about what it's like being trans and shit like that! It's great!!!!!

Everything hurt. His head, arms, legs, stomach...everything. It was so painful, waking up only to fall back into unconsciousness because he couldn’t handle it. Even when pills were shoved down his throat while he was awake, it could only dull the intense feelings he had. The boy’s head remained foggy for most days after he had fully woken up, only to fall asleep again. He was weak, frail, not able to do anything but open his eyes. Rivaille didn’t want to open them, so he didn’t. He was terrified that if he opened his eyes, he would just end up in that same place. Same basement, same bed, same screwed up daddy that would end up killing him, if he hadn’t already done that. But, despite his wishes, they ended up showing their color anyhow. 

 

It was bright, and everything was white while he adjusted to the bright light of the room. Eventually, he could see again, if only minorly. There was a ceiling above him made of many square shapes that were a sort of grey mixed with a tiny bit of brown. He had never seen that color before, but it’s nice and calming. It’s clean too, unlike the basement. 

 

...the basement. 

 

...THIS ISN’T THE BASEMENT!

 

Rivaille shot up from the bed as quickly as he could, pain and dizziness over taking him. The boy whimpered and tried to lift his hands to his head, only to discover that the action made his skin feel like they were on fire. He yelped, whimpering more and trying to curl in on himself. Every time he tried to move his feet arms, or any part of his body other than his head and eyes, really, were in immense pain that he couldn’t help but cower. Rivaille was terrified of everything. Nothing made sense. First off, his whole entire body hurt. Second, he was in some sort of bed with needles in his arms. There was some sort of machinery next to him that had a line going up and down with small spaces in between. The room he was in was also like nothing he had ever seen before. And why couldn’t he hear anything?

 

Slowly, the raven started to freak out, his breath quickening. His head shot in every direction as sounds suddenly seemed to amplify. The raven could hear his heart beating, the machine next to him making a beeping sound at the same time. Heavy footsteps could be heard running down the hall towards him, making him hyperventilate even more.  _ Get out of here _ , his mind screamed at him.  _ Run. Go. Go. GET OUT!  _ Rivaille reached his hands up to the needles and tried to yank them off. It was painful, like everything else, but he had to move, before whatever was running towards him came to get him. The boy grunted, twisting and turning, yelping and whimpering occasionally. 

 

The door to the room flew open. His eyes widened. “Rivaille, STOP!” Someone ran in, other with other people behind him. The man was coming closer, closer. Rivaille’s mind yelled at him. Danger, danger! He screamed. The nurses and doctor that came in the room ran to him, trying to control the boy. He was yanking at the needles in his arms, harder, faster. Rivaille was panting and screaming like crazy, tears falling from his eyes as the doctor and nurses held onto his arms. He struggled and struggled, trying to get free, but failing. His legs and arms were pinned onto the bed so that he couldn’t move. Then, suddenly he was let go. A woman came up to him. 

 

She had short, strawberry blonde hair that reached her shoulders. Her brown eyes were warm and kind, soothing, calming. Rivaille could tell she was a nurse with her uniform, but for some reason, he wasn’t afraid. Maybe it had something to do with the look she was giving him, one that resembled grandma’s. “It’s alright, Rivaille. We aren’t going to hurt you. You’re safe, hon. You don’t have to be afraid,” she spoke softly. The woman carefully lifted him up into a sitting position, making sure that he felt as little pain as possible. She sat on the bed and leaned towards him. Rivaille flinched, moving back a bit, but eventually stopped when he was enveloped in warmth. The blonde was hugging him, moving her hand up and down his back lightly. 

 

No one else was in the spacious room but them. They must have all left. The kind lady spoke in a careful, whisper, but it was reassuring and soft. “You must be so scared and tired, I’m sorry all this had to happen to you. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, you don’t have to hold back the tears. It’s okay, no one can harm you now.” As the words sank in, tear drops started falling from Rivaille’s eyes. Memories of living with daddy flashed before his eyes. The amount of times he had almost died...there were too many to count. Sure he was safe now, but for how long? How long until the world would flip him off again? How many times could he take the pain until it was too much?

Rivaille’s head flopped down onto her shoulder, his body shaking. Wails and sobs escaped him, filling the air while his tears drowned the bed. Eventually, he grew tired and sleep seemed to wage war to claim his mind. A war he was losing in. His mind was still not clear as day, but one question seemed to make it through to his hazed head. 

 

How long until he loses his will to live in this beautifully cruel world?

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

A petite blonde haired woman with kind, brown eyes walked out of the room after laying Rivaille back down on the bed. He had fallen asleep on her shoulder after crying his heart out. Before that, he had screamed and thrashed when the other doctors and nurses tried to calm him down. It occurred to them that the boy was severely traumatized and seemed to be afraid of everything, so they called in Petra. She worked with people who had PTSD, Schizophrenia, and many other disorders. The woman’s aura was that of a kind and generous person, like she is, and it helped calm the patients down. 

 

When she was called in to help with a young boy believed to be suffering a severe case of PTSD based on a short encounter - which is an unusual thing - Petra was nearby and quickly rushed in. Upon arriving, she forced everyone out of the room and went over to the child. It shocked her when she saw who she was dealing with. Rivaille Heichou, supposedly seventeen. The boy who lived with an abusive father and was moments away from being shot and killed. It pained Petra so much to know that someone as young as him had to go through, presumably, years of such torture that he no doubt experienced. All the marks on his body were proof of that. Thank goodness that monster had died. 

 

“Petra,” the doctor said, snapping her out of her daze. She quickly twirled around to face him, letting out a humm to show that she was listening. “What are we looking at here?” The woman was silent for a while, gathering all information she stored in her head. 

 

She sighed. “Well...it’s obvious that he has a sever case of PTSD. Rivaille is frightened by almost everything, and after he calmed down, he seemed to be able to somewhat understand his situation. The poor boy even cried himself to sleep in my arms,” Petra explained, shaking her head. The doctor nodded slowly, thinking. 

 

“I believe it would be best that he stayed here for awhile, until we can figure out who he is and hopefully stabilize his mental health.” He paused, looking straight into Petra’s eyes with utmost seriousness. “We’ll bring them in.” In response Petra straightened her posture a bit more and gave a slight, court nod. They then proceeded to walk in opposite directions towards their other patient. “Oh, and Petra,” the doctor called out to her. She turned around quickly to acknowledge him. “You’ll be his designated nurse from now on.”

 

“Understood.”

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

“Weirdo!”

 

_ I’m just like you. _

 

“You fucking slut!”

 

_ I’m not like that.  _

 

“You’re just a whore who likes dick!”

 

_ No I’m not, stop calling me that. _

 

“You should just kill yourself, no one would miss your bitch ass.”

 

_ That’s not true, Grandma would miss me, right? _

 

“You can’t do anything right, you’re a failure!”

 

_ No, I’m not. Stop. _

 

“Such a good boy.”

 

_ No, no, no. Stop, stop, stop.  _

 

“You’ll be fucked by me even when you’re dead, I promise, Rivaille.”

 

“NO!” Rivaille screamed at the top of his lungs, his brain going into overdrive. “STOP, NO, NO!” He twisted and turned around, phantom hands trying to pin him down, trying to dominate him. The boy grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and arching his back off the bed.  _ I can’t breathe. _

 

His breaths came in short, ragged bursts, the sound of choking being the only clear thing he could hear. It felt like there were hands pushing down harder and harder onto his neck.  _ I can’t breathe!  _ Tears were falling down from his face as his insides burned from the task of trying to keep him alive.  _ Let me breathe, please!  _ Soon enough, there was a calm and gentle voice by his side, trying to reach him. Rivaille focused on that voice. It slowly calmed him down, his breath evening out. The raven had no idea what was going on around him, and honestly, he didn’t care. He could breathe again. Rivaille let a small smile cross his lips as the rest of the world blurred out. Before losing his consciousness he opened his mouth and let out a sound, barely above a whisper. 

 

“Grandma.”

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

Grandma smiled a sad little smile when she heard Rivaille say her name before he fell asleep. She should have stayed with her little boy at the concert, then maybe this could have ended better. But, at least she called the police in time. One more second and sweet Rivaille would have been dead. Even thinking about it sent her shivering. “Madam Yeager?” A professional voice called over to her, making Grandma turn around. 

 

“Yes, dear?” She asked.

 

“My name is Petra Ral and I’m Rivaille’s designated nurse and I am also helping child services figure out who he really is. It’s an honor to meet you ma'am,” the blonde woman bowed. 

 

“It is nice to meet you, too.” Grandma responded politely. 

 

“Is it alright if I ask you some questions about your relation to Rivaille?” Petra asked, grabbing a stool to sit on and taking out a pen. 

 

“Go ahead,” Grandma said, stroking the sleeping boy’s head fondly, “anything to help my little raven out.” Petra nodded, smiling at the woman’s pet name. 

 

“Okay then, Madam Yeager. Are you related to Rivaille biologically?”

 

“No.”

 

“What is your relationship with him, then? And how did you meet?”

 

“I first met the boy when he was walking by my house when I recently moved in. I was having trouble carrying my boxes in and the kind child offered to help. I offered Rivaille a job for helping me out, which he first refused, but after some persuasion, he agreed. This was a few months ago, and I would always notice him with a new injury on his body. I did not say anything first, because I did not have any evidence about my suspicions, but I believed he was being beaten both at home and school. After some time of him working for me, we became close. Rivaille was like a nephew to me and I would and still will do anything for that boy. I bought him a ticket to a concert and the day of he was beaten up. I told him not to go, but he begged me, so I let my little raven go. It was his first time outside of that little town, and he looked so adorable with his eyes sparkling in interest. That is when I told him to call me Grandma, and we still have that relationship now.”

 

By the end of the story, Petra was grinning happily. She was glad that Rivaille had at least  _ some _ love in his life. The blonde woman cleared her throat and looked back down at her notepad. “Okay,” she said, “one more question. Do you know anything about Rivaille before you met him?” Grandma remained silent for a moment, contemplating.

 

“No, I don’t believe I do.” Petra let out a long sigh, and was about to say something else when she was interrupted. “But, I will say this. Rivaille does look like someone who my daughter used to spend a lot of time together with before.”

 

Petra perked up. “Really? Who is that person?”

 

Grandma looked back down at the sleeping boy who was holding her sleeve with his hand. She kissed his forehead and then looked back towards the blonde. “Her name was  _ Kuchel Ackerman _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who exactly is Madam Yeager? Does she have any relationships to a certain Eren Jaeger? Who knows...


	5. So They Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petra investigates Grandma to find out more about Kuchel Ackerman and Eren finally meets the person who he had been seeking out for years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna have a schedule for my writing anymore. I don't have the time for that, so I'm just going to write when I have time. I'll add a chapter to the works that I haven't updated recently, that way I have some sort of order, I guess...

_ “It has been two days since the incident with Rivaille Heichou and his supposed adoptive father occurred. The boy has woken up but is still under critical condition, the Western Countyside Public Hospital has stated. Nathaniel Heichou has been taken to jail without a trial, but one is scheduled to happen in the upcoming months. People in the northern districts where Rivaille lived have set up a memorial for him, wishing him good things to come and hoping that he will find his real parents and live a happy life again. But even with people gathering together in mourning for this boy, one question is yet to be answered.  _

 

_ Just who is Rivaille Heichou?” _

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

“Kuchel Ackerman?” Petra asked, dying to hear more about this woman. 

 

Grandma nodded her head. “Yes, my daughter, Carla Jaeger, she and Kuchel were inseparable all throughout their school days. Ever since day one in first grade. She was less expressive than my dear Carla, but she was kind and loving nonetheless. That woman would look after anyone, even people she did not know. Her family...she had a tough life from the start, but managed to get on her own two feet. Around her college years, she met a wealthy man. They were a sweet couple, perfect in every way, but they made a mistake, which got her pregnant. Her boyfriend promised to stay with her through the end, but when she gave birth, he left. 

 

Kuchel had a child, small and frail. He barely made it, both of them, but she was so happy when they were both alright. Her son, was naturally pale and had hair as black as hers, and Kuchel named him Levi, Levi Ackerman. Carla could not be happier for her friend, and she did everything she could to help her. My daughter already had a child, and would often take him with her to see Kuchel. Everything was going great, until the child turned three years old. Levi just disappeared one day, no trace of him anywhere. It destroyed her inside, and Carla did everything she could to help find him, but it wasn’t enough.”

 

The strawberry blonde nodded slowly. Yes, she had heard of this many times, but it always struck her in the heart. She cleared her throat, “if you don’t mind me asking, where is Kuchel Ackerman now? If we can find her, she can identify if Rivaille really is Levi…” Petra trailed off at the end of her speech, her voice growing quieter. Madam Jaeger was shaking her head slowly, a pained expression on her face. The woman breathed in deeply before letting out a sigh. She looked at the sleeping raven, brushing away a silent tear that fell from his closed eyes. 

 

“Kuchel Ackerman is not here anymore...She took her life one and a half years after Levi disappeared. She is in the stars now…”

 

“Oh my gosh...I am so sorry for asking. I should have known.”

 

“There is no way for you to have known, dear. I only wish she could have been here now, for Rivaille’s sake.” Madam Jaeger spoke softly. Petra huffed softly. With Kuchel gone, there would be no way to check and see if Rivaille really was Levi. Not unless she had a sibling, then the siblings DNA might resemble that of Rivaille’s. 

 

“I have one more question, Madam Jaeger, if I may ask,” Petra addressed the woman. She looked up at her, Rivaille’s hand still holding a bit of her shirt’s fabric. The lady waved her on to continue. “Do you know if Kuchel had any siblings?” Madam Jaeger thought for a moment before nodding. 

 

“Yes, I do. She had a brother, but he has been out of the picture ever since Kuchel passed away. His name is Kenny Ackerman,” she said. Petra quickly jotted that down in her notes before standing up and putting her chair away. She looked at the time. 

 

“Thank you so much for your information, Madam Jaeger. It will help us a lot. Sadly, visiting hours are over right now,” she paused, “but, I’ll give you ten more minutes. I’ll be in the front if you need me.” Petra walked towards the door before quickly turning around and bowing. “It was a pleasure to meet you Madam.” Then she left the two alone, exiting the room. 

 

Grandma remained sitting in her wheelchair, still stroking Rivaille’s hair and cheek. She hated that people can still be this cruel. No matter what generation, there will always,  _ always _ be people who enjoy the pain of others. You could give a person anything, and they will just keep wanting more and more. If only those people realized the pain they cause others. 

 

Rivaille shifted in his sleep, mumbling out her name in a pained voice. “Shh, my little raven,” Grandma whispered to him. “Everything will be alright, I swear on my life.” She gave him a chaste kiss on his forehead before taking his hand that was holding onto her shirt and placing it next to his head. The boy was adorable in his sleep, such a peaceful expression on his face. If only it was like that when he was awake. The woman gave another quick kiss before rolling out of the room, heading towards the elevator. She called for a vehicle to pick her up once she got outside. It would take about thirty minutes for one to get her, so she decided to kill two birds with one stone. Grabbing her phone, she dialed the number. It rang about five times before the person on the other end picked up. 

 

“Hello,” a young boy said. 

 

“Hello, my little wolf. I have a request for you.” She explained her proposition to him. 

 

“Yes, I’ll do it. I’ve been waiting for a chance to see him again. Thank you, Grandma.” And they hung up.

 

~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~

 

Everything was hazy, distorted. Nothing made sense to his distraught mind. There was no clear line between what was real and what wasn’t anymore. People would come and go, but their faces were blurred out, their voices static. There would always be someone with him in his room, never giving him privacy. They would ask question after question, and he answered, but in reality, he was far away. It was like he was watching everything as an outsider. He felt safer this way, but the thought of losing his body if he stayed there for too long was scary. 

 

Things were finally starting to make sense to him, tough. Even if his senses were off. He knew he was in a hospital, and that the person who put him there was no longer around. He was gone, but the fear he left behind was not. Doing regular tasks like eating food and drinking water took extra effort to keep down. There was no way to know what was in there, and after being fed bleached food and being forced to drink his own body fluids, his body decided to just reject everything that he consumed.

 

The needles that were stuck on him for all hours of the day were weird, but he learned to accept them. They were what kept him alive, and although living was hell, he didn’t want to die. Not yet. Some nice people kept showing up, asking questions, talking to him. At first he couldn’t be near anyone. Everyone was dangerous in his mind, everyone was out to get him, to hurt him. But...some people...the ones who continuously showed him kindness got him to open up to them. Although they did, he still wouldn’t talk much. He was afraid that the kindness would fade to hurt and regret, just like that man. 

 

Grandma would visit him often. It was nice, having someone love him,  _ truly _ care for him. She would put him to bed, sing him sweet lullabies. The greatest senses of comfort he would get came from when she was there for him. Sometimes when she thought he was asleep, she would talk to someone. They said something about finding out who he really was. Weather he was Rivaille or Levi, it didn’t really matter to him. Nothing mattered more than being safe, loved...cared for. That’s the only thing he could ask for. To have a life where he didn’t have to be afraid of his own shadow. 

 

The doctors would also say how he couldn’t be approached by anyone unless he knew them. If he didn’t, he would scratch and bite at them. He knew it was wrong, but he didn’t care. All he needed was to be safe from the monsters. Everything was trying to hurt him in his mind. Only Grandma and maybe that blonde woman were safe to have around. His brain had mentally reverted back to one of a child. He enjoyed childish things. Grandma and the blonde gave him lollipops and paper to draw on. It was fun and relaxing to just let his hand travel around the paper on it’s own free will. Although those things were nice, just being in Grandma’s arms were better. She wouldn’t let him get hurt, not while she was there. He could relax when she was, but his body was always alert when she wasn’t around. 

 

There was one day when Levi woke up, still in the hospital bed, still strapped up as usual. It was noisier that day though. He had been moved to the pediatric center where all the other kids and teenagers were, but it was usually always quiet. A sound of loud chatter was outside his door. It scared him to no end, so he hid in his blanket, hoping for it to go away. Tears rolled down his cheeks in his fright. The door to his room had opened, and a squeaking sound as well as footsteps could be heard making their way towards him. His breath hitched as he flexed his fingers. His mind was yelling at him that he was in danger, but he remained still. The boy could feel a hand reaching for the blanket, and he readied himself to attack, but then he heard a voice. 

 

“Rivaille,” it said. The voice was nice and calm, a promise of kindness lacing through it. Rivaille carefully peeked out of the covers, only enough so that he could see her. 

 

“Grandma,” he whispered in a meek voice. Grandma smiled at him, lifting the blanket off him a bit, his needles getting a little bit tangled but there was no pain. She scooped him up into a gentle hug. Rivaille melted into the warmth of her hug. Grandma hadn’t come to see him yesterday and he missed her hugs. It was only then when the raven noticed another presence in the room. He stiffened a bit, his body shaking in the anticipation. Grandma seemed to notice, because she turned around and waved the other person over. 

 

“Rivaille,” she stroked his back soothingly to calm him down, “I would like you to meet someone.” Rivaille lifted his head up a little to look at the other human. His eyes widened at the sight of the man. He  _ knew  _ this person. Grandma pulled back, grabbing the other person’s hand, the other still on Rivaille’s back. The person standing beside her was tall and well built. You could see his muscles, but you could also notice his curves. His face was set and sharp, his nose having a perfect lift to it. The person’s eyes were large, but they were also narrow, probably because of age. His hair was brown and messy, but the color of the human’s eyes was what caught Levi’s attention. They were a bright teal color. It was something that Levi had never seen before. Not up close, at least. He had a kind smile and looked kind of like Grandma did. 

 

“This is Eren Jaeger, my grandson.” Rivaille’s eyes widened even more. This was the guy that was singing on that platform. The person that he went to see at that...concert was it called? He couldn’t remember, but he remembered that day. He remained speechless, gaping up at the brunette. 

 

“Hello, Rivaille, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Eren said, grabbing his hand. Rivaille look at their touching hands, his lips slightly parted. The other human was warm, warmer than Grandma, which he didn’t think was possible. His brain no longer said that this man was a danger and that he needed to get away, it screamed at him to get  _ closer _ . He looked back up at the person’s eyes not knowing what to do next. When Eren tried to pull his hand away, Rivaille reached back out and gabbed it. He examined the hand, tracing over it, feeling the roughness yet softness of it. Both of them seemed shocked that he was actually interacting to someone who he just met and  _ not _ trying to get away from them. 

 

“Rivaille, honey, why don’t you introduce yourself.” Grandma gestured to let go of his hand, which the boy reluctantly did. She didn’t expect him to start talking to Eren so soon, but he surprised her. 

 

Rivaille looked down, a slight tint of pink on his cheeks. “Hi...my name is,” he looked at Grandma for reassurance. She signaled for him to go on. “Rivaille.” He spoke in a voice that was like one of a child who was shyly introducing himself. “Nice to meet you,” the raven whispered. He then proceeded to bury himself in Grandma’s arms, trying to hide his blushing face. Although he felt okay around that Eren fellow, he was still going to remain alert. One can never be too sure. 

 

Eren looked at the tiny boy who was hiding himself in his Grandma’s arms. He didn’t know what to think. Should he be surprised by the fact that Rivaille actually interacted with him when he was told that he only talked to a few people? Should he feel flattered? Should he feel as relieved as he felt? Eren didn’t know what to feel, but what he did know was one thing. He would protect Rivaille no matter what. The cutie deserved better than what he had gotten. Eren just had to earn his trust first. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's the story so far? Do you guys like it? I'm dying to know.


	6. In the Eyes of an Idol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we follow Eren around two days after meeting Levi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and probably gonna continue to have unpredicted updates that are far in between because...school. Yea, I really don't have an excuse other than school, bcz finals week is like, in two weeks and I have to get my grades up or I'm SCREWED...in bio. I'm actually doing fine in my other subjects. Surprisingly. So I wrote this...it's a little longer than normal (6 pgs on google docs) and yea. Enjoy seeing life through Eren's eyes and what he has do deal with.

The light outside the hospital windows was dimming, turning into a soft orange shade that indicated that the sun was setting. The once crowded hallways were almost deserted as the children had been ushered back to their rooms to sleep. Eren was sitting in Rivaille’s room, rubbing circles around the top of the boy’s hand to give him comfort. Slow, even breaths was released from the small figure. It had been a long day, meeting all the kids who were stationed at the hospital. Some of them were quiet, wanting to just listen to Eren’s stories, a picture being painted in their minds with his words. Others rambled on about the things they were interested in, like drawing and playing pokemon with their friends. Even when these kids had been through so much, knowing that they don’t have long left to live, they were a great roster. The teenagers in the hospital were great too. Although, he did have a couple of girls fangirling over him...and one  _ really _ enthusiastic guy. It was the norm for him, though, so he didn’t mind. Honestly, Eren was really proud. They sang with him and chatted with him like they were all old friends. Going to the hospitals to meet his fans that wouldn’t be able to go to his concerts was always some of his greatest experiences. 

 

But sometimes, like right now, he just wishes he could do something more for them. Eren sighed, looking at the boy’s sleeping face. Despite what he had been through, Rivaille looked beautiful. He’s such a nice boy too. Rivaille had opened up to him almost right away, and although he didn’t join the other kids when Eren was meeting with them, when they were alone...he was just so sweet. The brunette remembered what had happened earlier. He had just sneezed and coughed a bit, and Rivaille seemed so worried. “A-are you okay?” Rivaille had asked him with an expression of worry. The raven had reached out with both his hands and held Eren’s tan hand close to his chest. “I don’t want Eren to be sick…” He hadn’t let his hand go.

 

Eren had given him a warm smile to show him that he was alright. “I’m fine, Rivaille. You don’t need to worry about me.” At that time, he was sure the little boy would have argued, but instead Rivaille had nodded and yawned. He had hidden his body under the hospital blanket and snuggled into the pillow, still not letting Eren’s hand go. 

 

Rivaille had looked up at him with the biggest most adorable puppy eyes. “Can...can you sing a lullaby, please.” There was no way Eren could say no to him, ever. So he had curved his lips up in a kind smile and began to sing, stroking the hand that was connected to Rivaille’s. He had sang softly and from his heart, making sure to reach the tiny raven with his words of comfort. Eventually it had lulled the boy to sleep. 

 

The brunette sat there silently replaying those big, grey doe eyes. It warmed his heart knowing that Rivaille didn’t think of him as someone who was a threat. His phone then buzzed and he stopped all movement. He got the device out and looked at who was bothering him from this perfect moment with annoyance. With a puff of breath he carefully wiggled his hand out of Rivaille’s and got up. Before he turned around he gave a small kiss to the top of the sleeping boy’s head. As silently as he could be Eren left the room, closing the door after him. He went to his contacts and clicked on the one who had contacted him and called. 

 

“I’m about to leave the building, are you here soon?” Eren asked the person on the other side. A light voice hummed a yes. 

 

“Yep, I’m driving over now. Just dropped grandma back at her house,” the voice laughed. 

 

Eren smiled, huffing a breath as he walked over to the elevators, putting sunglasses on. “Thanks Sara. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

“You wouldn’t be an Idol, that’s for sure,” Sara sassed him. The brunette scoffed in fake offense. 

 

“Uh, rude.”

 

“Yea, yea. Love you too. Anyway, I’ll be there in...let’s say...seven minutes, so get your ass outside. And when I get there, you better not be wearing those sunglasses again.” Eren could hear the eyeroll. 

 

“Hey, they are my disguise,” he said, offended. 

 

“They literally don’t do anything! Anyone can tell who you are without seeing your eyes!”

 

Eren walked out of the elevator he had just been on and made his way over to the receptionist who just smiled and waved him on when he took out his wallet. The brunette quickly thanked her and gave her a smile before continuing to bicker with his manager. “Fine, I see you’re point,” he said in defeat. That was when Sara pulled up in front of him with an eyebrow raised. She rolled down the window and ended the phone call. “Okay, that was  _ not _ seven minutes.”

 

“It was an estimate. Now get in the car, we only have an hour before the photoshoot.” With that she rolled the window back up again, making Eren grumbled as he opened the door to the passenger's side. Once the door was closed, Sara started the car and drove off. Se had black, hip length hair styled in a half up crown braid that worked surprisingly well for her. Her eyes were as dark brown as the sky and her face was young without a hint of acne. Her skin was dark, complementing her complexion. She was beautiful, Eren wouldn’t deny that. “Eren,” Sara said in her you-have-disappointed-me tone. “Sunglasses off, now.” In response, the teal eyed man threw his hands up in annoyance, but reluctantly took them off anyway. 

 

It was silent for a little, the awkwardness of it making him shift in his seat. Luckily, Sara broke it. “So how were the kids?” At this Eren’s mood visibly brightened. 

 

“Oh, they were great! They’re so cute and nice, even though they’ve been through so much. I think they are the greatest groups of kids, really eye opening,” He ranted. Sara nodded, letting a small smile reach her lips. She let the conversation roll on. 

 

“That’s good. Was...what’s his name? Ravi? Revile? Rivaille, yea. Was Rivaille Heichou there?” Sara thought Eren couldn’t get brighter, but apparently, he could. At the mention of the raven, the brunette just lit up like a lightbulb. 

 

“Yea he was! He’s so kind. I just coughed once and he was all over me, worried that I was getting sick or something.” Sara giggled. 

 

“He sounds adorable!” 

 

“He is.” And that ended their conversation. The Idol stared outside of the car at the passing buildings, observing all the shops that zoomed past. He watched as the headquarters that he usually modeled at came into sight. Sometimes he wished that he had picked another job, something out of the limelight, but he didn’t regret it one bit. It was tiring, but it was also fun. Sara pulled up to the employee parking, finding their spot and parking.

 

“Alrighty, we’re here,” she said, stepping out of the car, Eren following behind her. They made their way over to the building which loomed over them. It was a building made of mostly glass to get the perfect lighting in each room and floor. When Eren thought of a cliche modeling center in the modern era, this is what it would look like. As soon as they stepped inside, Eren was rushed off into the makeup station. He sat down on a chair and watched as his make up artists got ready to “pimp him up.” Just then his phone began to ring. He picked it up while the artists got to adding highlights to his face. (Idk how this stuff actually works)

 

“Hello *Oma.” He greeted his grandmother. “What did you call me for?”

 

“Why hello my little wolf,” she greeted back, “I just wanted to tell you that the hospital called me about Rivaille not too long ago-”

 

Eren’s eyes widened and he jumped a bit, scaring the makeup artists. He apologised quickly to them and tried to calm down. “Is he okay?” He asked quickly, his protective nature kicking in. His grandma laughed warmly. 

 

“Do not worry dear, Rivaille is perfectly find. This is just about his identity,” she paused.

 

Eren’s face distorted in confusion, to the frustration of the artists. “What about it?” 

 

“Well...do you remember Kuchel? You’re mother’s friend?”

 

“Yea?”

 

“And do you remember her son, Levi?”

 

“Oh, him. Yes, I remember him. He’s like...three years younger than me, right? He would be nineteen soon.

 

...Wait, you don’t mean that-” Eren cut himself off. 

 

“There is a possibility that Rivaille is Levi, but there is no guarantee. The hospital just called me saying that they located Levi’s uncle and got a DNA test from him. He is in Jail right now, though, but that does not matter. The hospital is going to do a DNA test on Rivaille tomorrow, and the results will be in about a week.” The man contemplated about the information. If Rivaille really was Levi, then he would be reunited with his ‘childhood friend’ from when he was around six years old. It was a really long time ago since he actually saw Levi, and he had forgotten what the boy looked like, but he had never truly forgotten him. He hoped that Rivaille wasn’t Levi, but a tiny part of him honestly wished he was. It would mean he could finally see Levi again and fulfill the oath he had made to his mother and Kuchel long ago.

 

“Okay, thank you Oma, for telling me that. I’ll be sure to come around eventually to see him again. Also, don’t forget to tell me the results.”

 

“You are welcome, my little wolf. And I will tell you, do not worry. Bye now.”

 

“Bye, love you,” and he hung up, and put his phone away. By now the makeup artists were almost done, and he was surprised they hadn’t scolded him for all the moving around. As soon as they were done, Sara had dragged him over to the dresser and shoved him in some clothes. The jeans he was wearing hugged his ass and thighs, and the tank top clung to his abs. He walked out to the ‘stage’ but froze when he saw the one of the only people he did  _ not _ want to see. 

 

“Eren!” A girl with short and wavy brown hair as well as large amber eyes squealed.  _ Ugh, not her _ , he internally groaned. Sadly, he wasn’t allowed to be rude, so he plastered on a fake smile and gave her a hug when she jumped onto him. 

 

“Hi Hitch!” He said in fake enthusiasm. No one knew that he could not stand her. She kept pestering him and flirting with him, it was obvious that she liked him. And Eren had shot her down so many times, but she never got the message that he wasn’t interested. Not to mention that he was gay, but no one else knew that. “It’s great to see you again. How have you been?” 

 

“I have absolutely been great!” She looked over her shoulder, seeing the photographer, Marlowe walk in. He was a tall guy with short, black hair styled in a bowl cut and steel eyes.  He wore a serious expression on his face, like usual. “Hey Marlowe! Eren’s here, we can start now.” Marlowe smiled at them while moving in their direction.

 

“Glad you could come to this. I was afraid that I would have to find someone else, since you got that busy schedule of yours,” he chuckled. Eren shook his head in his amusement. 

 

“I’m not  _ that _ booked. I’ve got the time.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, near the nape. “So what are we doing today? What type of photoshoot is this?” Marlowe paused for a moment, surprised that Sara hadn’t told him. Hitch squealed again and wrapped herself around Eren’s left arm in delight. Much to his annoyance. 

 

“We’re gonna do a romantic scene” She was radiating happiness. Eren froze. What the hell did she just say?  _ A romantic scene _ ? What?

 

Marlowe gave him a sympathetic smile as if saying sorry for making you do this. “Hope you don’t mind, Eren. I was hoping that we could capture the warmth and silliness of love between a couple. We would just have you two cuddling or something, nothing too intimate.” The brunette internally cringed but nodded anyway. He had a career and reputation to uphold, he can’t just skip now.  _ Maybe it won’t be so bad.  _

 

“Okay, sure. Just tell us what we need to do.”

 

Eren was wrong, it was way worse. He kept on having to hold Hitch in these positions, like bridal style, or cuddle her. It didn’t help that she reeked of perfume. At one point, she almost  _ kissed him _ . Luckily, Marlowe told them to move to a different pose before she was able too. Even if it was unintentional, god bless him. Even though he was basically the one who got him into the mess in the first place. When it was over, Hitch came over to him and asked him if he wanted to go out and grab something to eat. Now it was already pretty late, around ten thirty, and he was cranky, but he didn’t want to seem like a jerk, so he agreed. That in itself might seem like a douche move, but when he has thirty something people staring him down for an answer, saying no is probably the worst thing to do. 

 

And so Hitch was grabbing his arm and dragging him over to some fancy five star restaurant with the biggest smile on her face while Eren grimaced internally. He was trying to be nice and make friends, but it was kind of hard when she was basically shoving herself onto him. They ate dinner, albeit awkward for him, and then they went out to the park to wait for their rides to come pick them up and take them home. They were sitting on a bench when Hitch scooted closer to him until she was practically leaning on him.

 

“I had a fun time, thanks Eren,” She said genuinely. This made Eren smile for real. He liked making people happy, even if it made himself miserable. 

 

“Sure, no problem. I had a fun time, too,” he smoothly lied. Hitch’s car parked in front of them, and Eren got up and opened the door for her. Before she got in, she pulled him down and captured his lips. She quickly smiled and got in the car, saying goodbye and shutting the door. Eren stood there dumbfounded as he watched the car drive off. Not far after, Mikasa pulled up and Eren silently got in. He felt like throwing up. 

 

“What happened,” the ravenette asked him, her motherly senses tingling. Eren just shook his head and told her it was nothing. She didn’t believe him, but let it go anyway. It had been the brunette’s first kiss with a girl that was outside a movie or photoshoot, and it only further proved the fact that he was one hundred percent gay. 

 

When Mikasa had dropped him off and he had gone up to his room, not bothering to take a shower, he flopped onto his bed. The image of Hitch leaning in to kiss him almost made him hurl. He stuffed his face in a pillow, disgusted with the picture it presented, willing it to go away or change. Soon enough, the Hitch was not the one standing in front of him, but it was Rivaille. Eren blushed at the image of Rivaille trying to kiss him with his short height. The man closed his eyes and imagined what would happen if Rivaille ever tried to do that. And it was then, before he succumbed to his primal nature to sleep, that he realized...

 

...he was in deep. And he barely even knew the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I no longer have a schedule, it's just a "I update when I can" kind of thing, which isn't that great, but I try. Anyway, what do you all think about this chapter? Do you like seeing things through Eren's "lense" as my english teacher calls it? 
> 
>  
> 
> EREN IS SO GAY OMG! I LOVE IT!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback are appreciated! ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/
> 
> Updates are on Mondays and Saturdays.
> 
> Writing Schedule:   
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ro9XCZm1m3CWyZTTpwU0oMsY9g-ACcwhPjnWcWI5nhQ/edit


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